


Paul Needs to Get Ahold of Himself

by waveofahand



Series: Dating Paul McCartney [3]
Category: Paul McCartney - Fandom, The Beatles (Band)
Genre: Basstiality, Boner interview, Dating Paul McCartney, F/M, M/M, The McSéamus
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-10
Updated: 2020-03-10
Packaged: 2021-02-28 22:47:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,697
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23095096
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/waveofahand/pseuds/waveofahand
Summary: You miss him. You want him. You're looking at a lot of pictures of him, when a pattern begins to emerge. You notice that Paul McCartney can't seem to keep control over one particular part of his body, which seems to have a mind of its own. And you're talking to him about it on the phone. Long distance.
Relationships: Paul McCartney/You
Series: Dating Paul McCartney [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1646920
Comments: 10
Kudos: 26





	Paul Needs to Get Ahold of Himself

**Author's Note:**

> This is dirty. I'm going to hell.

“Hi, Darlin’ just grabbin’ a few minutes to call you.”

“Aw, that’s so sweet.”

“Well, I miss ya, and all.”

“I miss you, too, Paul. What’s going on for you?”

“Oh, nuthin’ special. The usual. Ringo’s beating everyone at cards, we’re not getting’ enough sleep and George wants to go home.”

“Don’t you want to come home, too?”

“I _might._ Depends on what’s waiting for me when I get there, you know what I mean? I do like a big welcome. Have any ideas?”

“Oh, well… _maybe._ Maybe I’m getting some ideas right now, because I’ve been looking at some pictures of you, handsome.”

“Oh yeah? Plenty of them around, I guess.”

“Well… yeah. Surprisingly so, given that I’m looking at pictures where you seem to be um… _particularly happy_.”

“Well, I’m almost always happy, love. Except when I’m missing you.”

“Aw, baby, you’re cute. I almost believe you, too.”

“What? I’m bein’ sincere, you know.”

“I know you’re being sincere about all the times you’re happy, anyway. For a given value of _happy.”_

“Um… well I don’t know what that means, but--”

“Well, for instance if the value of happy is how often you seem to lose control over your, um… you know, your _wee marauder.”_

“ _Hey_ , hang on now! [He’s not wee, is The McSéamus](https://archiveofourown.org/works/19217335), if that’s who you’re talking about.”

“I can see that. The whole world can see that. Over and over again. What is wrong with you?”

“Love, what are you talking about? I’ve been gone for months on this tour, what’s The McSeamus done to offend you all the way over there?”

“Well, I’m not offended, exactly, but you might say he has a long reach. I'm just kind of astounded at how frequently he keeps popping up in these pictures. And that’s not a figure of speech, by the way. I’m being literal.”

(A five-beat silence.) “What in heaven’s name are you looking at? If it’s that interview, that round-up interview, that wasn’t really my fault--”

“Well, whose fault was it, then? The pretty Scottish girl’s? Was she flirting with you?”

“Ah, Morag, she was lovely. Kind of flirted with everyone, really.”

“Did she flirt with John? Because he seemed a little off his game, too. In fact all three of you seem to be restless in your seats... but none of them as bad as you, baby.”

"What do you mean like me? How bad was it? It wasn’t that bad.”

“Well, it looked to me like The McSéamus was there for the entire interview, start to finish, and didn’t even back off when you guys strolled over to Ringo and George.”

“I don’t remember that.”

“You don’t remember picking up Ringo in order to hide your front?”

“I deny it. I have _no memory_ of ever picking up Ringo in order to hide. And I’m not that big, love. Don’t have to hold a whole man in front of me to hide it. That’d be monstrous big, aye?”

“Well, Ringo is a little man, you know.”

“Hey!”

“But still big enough for the purpose.”

“I’ve actually seen Ritchie, darlin’. He could poke your eye out with that thing. They could see it from space.”

“You’ve had occasion to see it, um… in its largest form? How did that happen?”

“Why are we talking about this, lovie? Some things are best forgotten, don’t you think? It was over a year ago. You know, I was just a lad. Young lads have trouble like that, sometimes.”

“You were _22!”_

“Aye, but you know… _Irish.”_

“That’s your excuse? You’re Irish?”

(Lowering voice) “Baby, you know all those potatoes have to go somewhere…”

(Laughing despite yourself and also loving that voice) “Oh, tell me more, then! Talk dirty to me about your root vegetable.”

“You are the filthiest date I have ever had, you know--”

“I don’t see how that’s possible because I’m looking at a picture of you in the Bahamas, from when you were filming _Help!_ And you’re in the water wearing sunglasses and talking to some babe, and, well… your root vegetable has become a cucumber and it’s bulging ‘way over the water line.”

“What? I’ve never seen such a shot of me.”

“Well, I’m looking right it, sweetie, and it’s... Well, it’s like a misplaced waterwing. Like if you bent down you’d have quite the flotation device. Would buoy your backside right up top, it would.”

“Where is it, what magazine?”

“I mean, there’s your thighs, and there’s… well, that’s definitely The McSéamus coming up for air, there.”

“Oh, Christ, and this is a widely available photo, you say?”

“It’s a photo, anyway. Not sure how widely available it is. I wish I had the negative. I’d make a million dollars.”

(Silence) “… Are you pulling my leg?”

“No. I’m not pulling your leg. Nor your chain. Nor that cucumber. But then there is this other shot of you, with the boys, you know. And it’s like… (sigh) oh, baby, why can’t you contain yourself?”

“ _What?_ What picture is this?”

“Well, I’m not sure when it’s from. It’s an odd shot. John’s wearing his leather hat, George is in a long tweed jacket, Ringo is in a pinstripe, and you…”

“I think I remember that. Was like the winter of ’64. What about me?”

“Well, nothing, you look lovely, as ever – the hair is perfect, the smile is in place, you’ve your arms crossed before you…and in a sports coat and fine pinstripe slacks. Only you’re…”

“I’m what?”

“Well…”

“If you start another sentence with ‘well’ with that hesitant voice again, I’m hangin' up, love. Just tell me.”

“W--…Ah… you’re… you’re… you’re a given value of _happy_ , you know? You and The McSéamus are. _Happy._ ” 

_“No!”_

“As they said to you in Hamburg -- and probably too often for your own good -- love, _ja wohl!”_

“No, darlin’ you must be wrong. They’d never release such a picture.”

“Oh, they’ve released it. Someone has.”

“No, it must be a wrinkle or just a fabric bunch or something.”

“Yes, you tell yourself that, love, but we both know you have your clothes perfectly tailored to you, so there’s no extra fabric laying around to get bunched up. No, you’re definitely what I’d call _happy_ I that picture. And there's another, seems to be taken during _Help!_ as well. You're sitting down with both your hands and your bass between your legs--"

"I was _cold!_ I was just warming my hands that time."

"Alright, alright. If you say so I believe you, love. You were _cold._ We'll go with that."

“So, wait. You’re telling me that basically you’re looking at a couple of pictures of me… of me randy campaigner showing up?”

“Not a couple of pictures. _Several._ And he’s not just showing up, he’s waving from the bandstand, isn’t he? He’s doing… what’d that old man call it in _A Hard Day’s Night?_ Oh yeah, he’s—”

“Don’t say ‘parading’.”

“Oh, he’s _‘parading’_ alright. Kinda like that time with the bass before you started wearing it just a little bit lower on stage.”

(Audibly biting his lip) “You shouldn’t talk about that time. We don’t bring that up.”

“Yeah, I guess it was brought up just enough back then. And I have a picture of it, too.”

“Yes, well…”

“Because you keep getting into trouble lovin’ on your bass, you know.”

(Long slow sigh) “I do… _I do…”_

“Wait a second. I know that sound. You’re getting all… restless and ‘happy’ just thinking about that, aren’t you?”

(Another audible sigh) “Change the subject. How are your parents doing?”

“My parents? My parents have thus far been protected from the fact that you not only can’t keep it in your pants, which I accept because I know you’re in a band and you’re on the road, and all that, but you also can’t just… keep it tamed. And you’re bad, baby. You’re undisciplined and bad.”

“Am I bad, love? I thought I was pretty good.”

(Groan) “You’re so good, baby, but you do have to, you know… learn to _control_ it. Get yourself together. You know, _get ahold of yourself.”_

“Oh, I like that idea…”

“No, Paul, you’re such a child, that’s not what I meant. I just mean you know… take yourself in hand, and be a man.”

“I’m doing that right now, sweetie, just for you. _Whoops.”_

(Covering your face) “It was not my intention to bring The McSéamus to life.”

“Well, you did, love. You brought him up. You encouraged it.”

“I didn’t.”

(Ten second pause) “You shouldn’t have mentioned Miss Hofner.”

“I know. I know you’re… [kinky like that.”](https://waveofahand.tumblr.com/post/188032909093/the-history-of-paul-mccartneys-basstiality-kink)

“We have a very special bond, you know.”

“I remember…”

“Can’t help it. She’s a shapely thing.”

“You’re a pervert. You’re a pervert who can’t control his thingy.”

“My thingy. Oh, love, if only you were here right now, you’d like my thingy at this moment. You’d be very happy with how happy he is.”

“I am not having phone sex with you.”

(Sounding disappointed) “Won’t you, darlin’? Alright…”

“Wait! Wait!”

“What? I’m going to hang up. Long distance, you know, and I’ve got a happy friend here, to make welcome and see to, and all. Wouldn’t be polite to ignore a happy friend whose just shown up out of the blue, now, would it?”

“But you’ve never liked pop-in company!”

“On the contrary, babe, I love pop-in company. I love all kinds of popping-in company when it’s the right sort.”

“Why do I love you? You’re so dirty.”

“Exactly, love. You’re so smart, able to answer your own questions and all.”

(Groaning) “How much longer can you be on the line, then?”

(Audibly smiling from 3,000 miles away.) “As ever, love. As long as you need.”

“I hate that you make me be so bad.”

“I make you?”

“You do.”

“I’d love to, actually. I wish you were here.”

“I’m here, baby.”

“Really here, though.”

“Well… is it okay that I said, ‘well’ baby”?

“Depends.”

“On what?”

“On what you say after that…”

“Oh. Well. _Well_ , as I was saying, love, you need to um… get ahold of yourself…”

(Sighs) “You make me so _happy_ , my sweet…”


End file.
